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Outtake-1

Edward receives James' letter

Dear Edward,

I am writing this letter to you to inform you of the sad demise of my son and your cousin Anthony James Masen. He had been unwell for some time, and passed away in his sleep last night. In the light of this event, it is you duty to return to England and take Anthony's place, both as the master of the estate and the new husband to Lady Isabella.

It is my directive that you do so with all haste possible and establish yourself as Lord Masen so that the estate continues to prosper as it had under Anthony's care. I have had enough of your gallivanting around the continent and wasting your time. You will come home now and attend to your affairs under my supervision.

Regards,

Your uncle,

Lord James Masen.

Grief. Disbelief. Rage.

All three feelings battle in my heart as I read the brief, almost curt missive from James. I was aware that Anthony had been unwell. Both my mother and Mrs Stanley had written to me with concern, but they had been hopeful of his recovery. My mother had mentioned in her last letter that a renowned physician from London was staying at the estate and trying some new medicines on Anthony, and Anthony was responding well to the treatment. Then how did he deteriorate so suddenly?

Images from our childhood and adolescent years rush through my mind like leaves blown by a strong wind. Anthony had been there ever since I could remember, playing with me, teaching me things and being the perfect elder brother. As a toddler, I did believe him to be my brother. It was only when I was five or so that I came to know he was my cousin.

Not that it made any difference to our friendship. Anthony had lost his mother very early, and James was frequently away. My home was more of a home to him than his own. Now that I think about it, my parents were the only parents he had known.

For James was never much of a father to Anthony, even when he was at the estate. All he was concerned with was that his son speak and behave properly, especially in the presence of guests. Any breach of etiquette was punished with a paddle, replaced by a cane or belt over the years. Depriving him of a meal or making him clean out the stable was relatively harmless. It was no surprise that Anthony began to shake if James as much as raised a brow at him.

Both of us had lessons at the manor, with the tutors reporting our progress to James on weekly basis. He had instructed them to inflict corporeal punishment on us if we didn't do well at studies, but thankfully our tutors were kinder and we got away with a scolding.

As we grew up, our bond only became stronger. As long as my father was alive, James didn't raise his hand on me, but as soon as he passed away he began to treat me the same way he treated Anthony. My mother's objections were brushed away as a weak woman's whining. He told her that he was going to make us into real men, not delicate flowers that would wither in the wind. According to him, my parents had already mollycoddled us enough.

At least going away to Oxford saved Anthony's hide from James. And when he returned and was given the estate to manage, James spent most of the year at his other estate, returning only now and then to check the records and the progress Anthony had made. To some extent, he treated Anthony like a man and not like a boy. But I knew that Anthony never lost the fear James stirred in him.

For me it had always been different. I had had a father for some years of my life, a father who loved me and was unfailingly kind to me and everyone else. I knew what James was doing was completely wrong, as opposed to Anthony who remained conflicted even as a man. I could not stop James from beating me, but I never cowered in front of him.

When he ordered me to look after the horses instead of dreaming of college, I accepted the decision without bitterness. I knew I was never going to be rich, but I loved horses anyway, and spending time with them and being paid for it didn't seem to me a bad way of living my life. Honestly, I had not given much thought to the future, content to live one day at a time. That is, until I saw Bella in the village.

If there is a moment that changes one's life, that was it for me.

I fell for her hard. I wanted to spend my whole life with her, wanted to give the world to her.

And I knew none of it was possible. I had nothing to give to her; the Masen name alone wasn't good enough for a proposal. I would have to find a way to earn more, have a position in the society so that I could approach her father and ask for her hand.

While I was frantically thinking of such ways, most of them quite impractical, Anthony saw Bella at her aunt's Ball. James had been after him to get married and produce an heir for the past two years, taking him to various events and dances so that he could choose one of the girls there. Somehow Anthony had managed to fend him off, pointing out this or that imaginary fault in the girl or her family. But he knew it wouldn't work for ever. He had to choose a wife soon.

I sigh, thinking of the mess we had managed to create while executing Anthony's harebrained scheme. Worst of all, we had tangled Bella in a web of lies and deceit where she was the only innocent one, yet she suffered the most. Mrs Stanley's letters to me gently hinted that Bella was living only a half-life. Her daughter was the only bright spot in her otherwise dark and lonely life.

Lizzie, my daughter. Whenever I thought of her, I felt as if my heart was being squeezed by a giant fist. I had never even set my eyes on her, yet she was precious to me, a part of me combined with a part of Bella. For years I had waited for Anthony to fulfil his promise and unite me with my love and my daughter, until I had almost given up.

And still I had hoped for a miracle. I had just not expected it to be in the form of Anthony's death.

Tears sting my eyes and I let them flow. I cry for the needless loss of my brother's life, for the loneliness all three of us have gone through because of fear and guilt on Anthony's part and plain stupidity on mine. And I cry for the years I have missed from my daughter's life.

Finally my tears stop. I splash some water on my face and dry it slowly, thinking ahead. Though I grieve for Anthony, there is a measure of relief as well. It has happened. No longer I have to wonder whether or not I will see Bella again, touch her, kiss her, love her. I can go home, and Bella will be mine. I will be a husband to her and a father to Lizzie. We will have a life together.

The tone of James' letter angers me, but it also makes me laugh. He thinks I am still that boy he can control with a harsh word or a whip. Perhaps he imagines me grateful and subdued because he is offering me the family title and estate. He must assume that I will bow to his every whim and let him supervise, just as he did with Anthony. If it is so, he is going to get a shock.

I know James and how his mind works. He might dislike me, but he will still prefer that the title goes to me rather than some distant cousin he has never met. For now I will let him think he can dictate me to some extent, but once I have his sign on the required documents, I will show him that I have a will and a mind of my own. No longer will he bully me, nor will I allow him to order Bella around as he must be doing right now.

In fact, it is my future relationship with Bella that worries me more than dealing with James and his high-handedness. Clearly, she is not going to welcome me with open arms. And God forbid, should she ever come to know the whole truth, she will probably hate both me and Anthony equally. And yet I must tell her everything sooner or later. How can we have an honest relationship if this serpent sits between us, coiled and ready to strike?

And what about my symbiotic relationship with the widow? How am I going to explain that to her?

Well, I can't decide everything today. Right now the most important thing to be done is to make arrangements for my departure. It will take all my time and energy to sell my business and my house profitably, and as quickly as possible. After I settle my affairs, I will take leave of all my friends and acquaintances. I must also arrange for some of my horses to travel to England. They are very well-trained, and I want to start the same business there, even expand it after a while.

I had arrived in France with the express purpose of making money, but the years spent here have given me much more. They have seen me depressed and they have seen me hopeful. They have seen me alone as well as being social and making friends. Even though I was more or less banished to this country, my time here has not been a loss.

However, now I have a chance to live the life I had been craving for, with Bella. Now I have my true purpose in front of me.

I will not fail Bella this time.

A.N. : So that was Edward just after receiving the news of Anthony's death. Next outtake will be another EPOV, dealing with the days (and nights) after Anthony's wedding to Bella.

I have got another brilliant request for an outtake, this one Jasper's POV regarding Anthony. Different, eh?

And of course everyone wants to know more about Jake and his family, and what will happen to him next. The thing is, my mind has spun a whole story that can't be covered in an outtake. I don't want to write a sequel because I would prefer it to be an Edward-Bella story rather than a Jake-Lizzie one. Maybe not immediately after this, but soon. What do you think?

Have you started writing for Beyond The Bedroom Contest yet? The word limit starts from 3,000, so you can make it quite short. Think of something you have experienced, read or heard from someone and convert it into a lemon that is different from the usual ones. I am counting on you people to have lots of entries!